


Does The Body You Conceal, Need The Touch Of Someone’s Hand?

by Pink_and_Velvet



Series: Ink Me, Like One Of Your Nagel Girls [4]
Category: Duran Duran, Duran Duran (Music Videos)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Band nods, Body modifications, Canon nods, Established Relationship, Fluff and Humor, Growing Up Together, M/M, Mutual Pining, New ink, Reunions, Running a Business, Stage Hands, Student Night, Tattoos and Piercings, men kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:41:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23531005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pink_and_Velvet/pseuds/Pink_and_Velvet
Summary: It’s student night. They need all the ‘stage hands’ they can get but a special someone seems to be missing...Tattoo and Piercing Shop AU
Relationships: Andy Taylor/John Taylor (Duran Duran), Nick Rhodes/John Taylor (Duran Duran)
Series: Ink Me, Like One Of Your Nagel Girls [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1664626
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	Does The Body You Conceal, Need The Touch Of Someone’s Hand?

Flinging his no longer so lanky arms around a thin, trim waist lost in an oversized and terribly boxy black suit: they were practically wrestling each other to the floor; laughter dropping merrily. It graduated into the odd hiccup and pant, Nicki’s new disarray of heavily teased black hair flinging out in all directions.

He glanced upwards, heavily smokey eyes boring into his gorgeous, vexing, boyfriend who too was panting softly. Trying to stifle his small hiccups.

JT swept his head down, overgrown and over-sprayed mullet dangling before his puffy face. He was no longer covered in ruby red lipstick, opting for a more subtle natural tone to his already ever so inviting lips. He now wore little to no mascara, his eyes needed the break, yet his browns were blown extra wide. But not enhanced by the lovely kohl that Nicki missed applying for him.

“So restless,” JT spat. Dripping in desire, dirty and tones full of sex.

“So restless, _indeed_.” 

They were giggling, laughing themselves hoarse, as together they rolled about the tile floor. JT’s satin cloak kept getting in the way, rolling over them both and bringing them in even closer. Not that either man seemed to mind that the cloak had a mind of its own. JT’s newly adopted black bangles kept clinking, chiming light-heartedly as they rolled: thoroughly contrasting the severity of the situation; sounding so innocent and pure.

Neither man could own up to that.

They were kissing, Nicki’s pasty lips on JT’s. Nipping and sucking, _daring_ to suck every last breath the tattooist could muster. Nicki trapped his beautiful face in his slender and manicured hands, angling JT down to crush their mouths together once more.

With a wolfish grin, a flicker of something darker in those chocolate eyes, JT leapt off of him; holding out a hand to yank Nicki back up.

They took a moment to straighten themselves up, more than aware of the heat at their backs.

“Jeez, I would say get a room but—”

JT whirled around to greet him.

“—you’d miss a hell of a show, man!”

JT eyed his right hand tattoo man Cuccoo, who had cocked a brow and was pouting. Thoroughly studying the situation before him.

Two ruffled colleagues, satin shirts half unbuttoned and noir blazer thrown away.

“I wouldn’t like, I wouldn’t like you _keeping me in the dark_ JT.”

Sure, they had had their fun with Cuccoo. They should do it again someday, not wait so long for a certain _Notorious_ reunion.

Find that _treasure in the dark_ , once again.

With a roll of his eyes, Cuccoo broke away into a brisk strut that had both sets of lust coated eyes (JT especially!) glued to his back. His delectably tan skin, he was shirtless, coated in delectable ink that ran all over his endless, perfect muscles. JT coughed, running a hand through his crunchy mullet before turning back to Nicki.

“Open it, _Wild Boy_.” Nicki stated, adopting that tone that made JT ever so…

So…

“Ugh, all this manual labour. You owe me big time, Bates!”

_Hungry._

“Yeah, sure,” JT could practical hear the sarcasm in his rich Brummie vocal.

_Like A Wolf_. Or some other feral creature.

JT shuffled to the front of the studio, rolling up his satin sleeves and baring his forearms. He fiddled with the latch, pulling the shades upwards to thrust _Skin Trade_ into the light, thrust _Skin Trade_ into the grind and smiles of the chicks waiting outside on New Street, straight into the tatted geezers and gals who couldn’t wait any longer for that gorgeous ink.

JT was beaming, catching sight of a certain customer, head bobbing up amongst the small crowd. Eyes widening, running a deft hand through his hair that had finally graduated to full mullet status, he unlocked the doors and dove aside: letting the kids in.

“Jesus the girls!” He bellowed to Nicki at his side. “Imagine if we were pop stars? They’d be all over us!”

“They already are,” Nicki called back, signalling to the full diary laying atop of the reception desk.

“You guys really need to get a handle on these friggin’ walk in’s.” A voice rang in JT’s head.

It was somewhat foreign, yet familiar. JT whipped around on his heel, satin flowing merrily around him, and he gasped.

“ _Ands!_ ”

“Hey hey, Johnny!”

Ands was bouncing, JT was trembling, as he threw himself in for the reunion hug.

“The hell is all this shit?” JT could barely hear him over the chatter of some teens at his back, “the freakin’… not even gonna ask.”

“Ask what?”

“The shit in your _hair!_ ” Ands was howling, laughter lines growing wide under his circular shades. “What.. JT, even. Is. That?!” He got louder, provoking Nicki to join in. “Nick, the hell are you doing with this tramp?!”

“Oi!” JT slapped him lightly on the arm, failing at keeping his laughter at bay. “Git!”

“Oi git ya self!”

Throughout the day clients kept on coming and coming. Almost in waves, there was a new wave every so often. Every couple hours.

Thank God JT had called him and Ands had agreed. He needed the firey guy’s _helping hand. Oh-woah!_

The place was buzzing, not just thanks to the endless tattoo guns in the back. Student nights were rife, the discounts being blown about by the breeze and in the money was raked. Hundreds were made those nights, where the youngsters of downtown Brum even got that sort of cash from was honestly beyond them all.

They had more than just a little helping hand. “ _Can you hear us now? You’re looking at Skin Trade!_ ” They had their fair share of ‘stage hands’ that were bought in for the immense occasion, newbies Dom and Anna were currently manning the manic reception desk, trying to get a handle on the phone as it rang wild off the hook.

“Jesus! Will someone please explain?” Anna threw her head up, motioning to the next swarm of students as they clambered in through the door, “the reasons for… all _that!_ ”

“And you wonder why I wanted to get out of the tattooing gig?”

“Rog?!”

JT’s eyes widened, his mouth hanging open as he caught sight of his fellow Ex-Tattooing Taylor amongst the crowd. Thankfully, he had come out of an early ‘retirement’ on such a _Perfect Day_ , spending it with JT, helping him please client after client. They had to double up, Rog’s old studio having been swamped by the guitar freaks who hopefully weren’t at each other’s throats with needles, in JT’s hole.

The girl on his ass was quite something, bop-bopping merrily down the long and windy corridor to JT’s studio in the back. As always, he payed his extra special and drawn out respects to each and every icon on his legendary wall of the greats.

“The Who; Mot The Hoople; Queen; Roxy Music and Sex Pistols; The Clash and… Blondie, _Baby I can lick you anytime_.” JT sang. Rog plugged his ears.

“What’ll it be, Amanda?”

Together they worked through client after client, laughing and joking about the old days. From when JT was bumming off his own Polytechnic graphic design course in favour of getting his inks out and practicing elsewhere. To Rog traipsing into their first sleazy tattoo joint that was in no way fit to meet all standards and regulation now that they looked back and grimaced over the thought. To when together: Nicki, JT and Rog has throughly lost it at finding the most talented, all rounder body modifier out there. Ands, who was inking up a storm, a _Thunder_ , all of his own next door.

About three thirds of the gruelling way through, JT swapped with Cuccoo so he could catch up with this best pal.

The Taylor boys, no relation, were vibing, gelling, all over again. They had had a little rocky period, with JT having lost the _Power_ that fuelled his _Station_. The six strings to his barely ready four, wreaking havoc and blasting _T-Rex_ for hours on end.

JT watched him for what felt like hours, even if only a few mere minutes had passed. Whenever Ands’ needle was nearby, JT was bound to be lost in his trance. The man had mad skills, without a doubt, he was by far the best out of the Taylor Threesome at what he did. Granted each Taylor shone in their own way, rhythmically JT and Ands were more inclined and yet JT and Rog were always on the same page: democratic as ever.

“You’re lookin’ good, man,” Ands rasped, swiping away the ink from the woman laying before him. “Finally some weight on ya!”

JT blushed and blushed violent. Now that he was going au natural, in terms of the makeup department at least, he couldn’t blame the product for coating his face in such embarrassment.

He glanced down at himself, at the newfound podgey stomach that he so desperately tried to hide underneath the baggy shirts and trousers. Proper trousers. He was enjoying the break from the constricting leathers, giving himself a literal chance to _breathe_ … especially around his nearest and dearest piercer. And Cuccoo.

Good Lord.

“What’re ya _on_ anyways?”

JT smiled, wild and free.

“Just high on life, you know.”

“And Nick?”

JT’s beaming gaze dropped to his feet, he shuffled back and forth on the balls of his feet.

He was blushing like mad now, poorly hiding it. “As always.”

“Gor, Tigger, how does anyone put up with ya?!”

“Beats me, midget man.”

“Shut it.”

Rolling his unusually un-lined gaze, JT let his crunchy mullet roll with him. Steadying his focus, hair falling into his eyes, he settled back on Ands at work. His hands were ever so talented, running fast and so carefree as he delivered powerful stroke after stroke. It had been five years of JT and Ands together and still, they were making _Careless Memories_ together: he was thoroughly _thirsty for Ands’ water, babe._

JT’s gaze fell to Ands bare arms, the Phoenix that painted his right. He was wearing his classic ‘nosey little fucker’ black tank, that had surely seen better days. Those rips in it were planned!

“Still can’t believe you’re wearing that thing. What is it, 1983?”

“Gotta be able to breathe in here, JT!”

“Get with the _1985_ scene, big and baggy tat- _clothing_ is the way to go!”

Momentarily scouring his belongings, JT caught sight of a new, rich oversized black blazer with some bling dangling from it. He could’ve sworn that he had never seen Ands in so many layers before, plus the blue in his mullet. That was new and boy, did he rock it!

Another happy couple entered, hand in hand, thrusting themselves deep into Cuccoo’s studio full of erotic figures painted in questionable positions. Murky lights and questionable trinkets, that basically bound you to whip off your clothes which, when JT thought about it, actually did make a lot of sense here. Not that Cuccoo was here to explain them.

The nudist freak.

The two women strolled in hand in hand, the brunette being the first to perch beside Ands in the chair. She had a quote in mind and immediately JT wondered why she had been sent over to Ands for such a small, intricate tattoo. Nothing about the man was small, elegant, intricate… other that the fact that he really was tiny when leaning up against JT. That was the sort of ‘flouncy shit’ (as Ands would say, thick northern accent still a pain for JT to detangle) that was much better suited for the ‘fag in the bandana’.

“Not that I’m wearing a _bandana_ anymore,” JT whispered, more into his hand than actually out into the world.

“Still a _fag_ though.”

“Dammit!” JT could’ve sworn he hadn’t been heard. He thought he was being super secret and stealthy!

“ _Stay wilder than the wind_ , I like it. Why not throw in a couple swirls, some water colour in the back?”

Ands and the girl chatted on and on, together they crafted her ideal masterpiece. Her partner would be getting the same, only with pink instead of blue.

“I’ll add a little highlight. The _White Lines_ will fade though that’s normal, so Don’t Do It!”

How perfectly imperfect.

JT watched on, holding tight as her partner slipped into the chair and her tears fell as the needle sliced her skin. Her girlfriend held her other hand, kissing her knuckles and the rings she wore; JT’s gaze softened at the small motion.

“Shouldn’t you be workin’, Johnny? Or will ya get it and get it _good_ if the boss finds ya slackin’?!”

His mind momentarily drifted to his own pint sized piercer, number one photographer, all round little stud drowning in a suit that was far too big for him and looking as though he had barely escaped Transylvania in the front of the store.

He thought of Nicki’s soft hands. How over the years, as their confidence had grown, the colours they painted each other’s nails had grown vibrant, then dull, then vibrant again. How now his fingertips were always a harsh black.

“Uh company, Johnny?”

How frightened they were to even be holding hands, stealing quick kisses, before they could even bear the scrutiny of their mothers: always itching to keep those beautiful fingers close. Keep Nicki close.

“John, you alright?”

How elated he had been, the first time those subtle and tender digits had gone to where no fingers had gone before on him: running all over his pasty skin, long before any ink had been offloaded into it.

“ _Nigel!_ ”

Long before JT had had that awakening. That he too needed to showcase the love that he had, express himself, in such a way. Falling in love with his and Nicki’s only bodies, as their limbs entwined and their hearts beat in time.

“Shit! Sorry, man, I didn’t… didn’t even realise you were there!”

“I’ll say.”

Dom had peered his head in, then stood there for however long trying to shake him out of his trance. The stupid flush in his face and beady eyes that he would always get when thinking about Nicki and his… well, _everything_ , was always the tell tale sign as to where his head was at.

Rog would still laugh. Ands would still slap him around the head then laugh. Cuccoo would just roll his eyes and practically shove Nicki’s quaking little body into JT’s not so little and quaking own.

He had the best of friends. His tattooing gang.

“You’re 5’ O’ clock is here, JT.”

Tattooing Gang… of _Princes_.

“Five? Little late for for an appointment in _room 7609_ , don’tcha think Tigger?”

Ands flashed him a cheeky grin, which JT met with a wink.

“La, la, la, Late Ba-ha! La, la—”

There was a collective ‘ _shutthefuckup!’_ booming from Ands, Dom, Rog and Cuccoo through the sadly not so thin walls.

“ _The fatal sounds of broken dreams_ ,” he scoffed, following Dom’s lead as they exited the studio. “How they mock me!”

JT took a moment, just the two of them, to rake his eyes all over the man. He hadn’t known Dom very long, still wasn’t particularly sure on how Nicki had known him and where he had come from. He was definitely the perfect fit though, aways on the beat, keeping up and in time. The man seemed to know their catalogue like the back of his inked up hand, JT couldn’t be more proud to call him his friend.

Dom’s skin was pretty bare, he remained well covered up when working and JT hadn’t really had the chance to ask. His black shirt was rolled up around his arms, baring his lovely little dedication to his daughter. Every time JT’s gaze caught it he smiled, he was a sucker for dedication tats. Subtle ones, ones that were well thought out and artsy. Ones that didn’t feed _Too Much Information_ , but could still keep him guessing were always the best.

He noted to himself: he needed to do the thorough body mods walk through with the new guy. With Anna, too!

The studio was still buzzing, he couldn’t even imagine the amount of holes Nicki had lovingly sliced today. In ears, mainly. Nor could JT even begin to imagine just how much dosh he must’ve made. He deserved every penny, those poor (absolutely gorgeous) hands should’ve been on JT: sometimes he really hated having to share those beautiful bastards!

As soon as JT rounded the corner, Dom stood before him, he searched for his goth prince. As if on cue, on _Reflex_ perhaps, Nicki slipped out of his studio door and caught sight of JT. He was blushing under the mullet, waving like a tit, giggling.

Although Dom was _caught in the crossfire,_ “you really _love_ him, don’t you?”

JT could’ve cried.

He nodded, over and over, fleeting back to Nicki. Nicki blew him a kiss and JT couldn’t believe his eyes, wondering if his contacts were playing tricks on him. Dom seemed to read his mind, chuckling softly in his ear.

Students night was drawing to a close, ending at six. JT would be staying late for a new friend of his, who wanted something extra special. What he wanted to do didn’t have to be manic, even though JT initially questioned the man, but it had to be done and done right. JT was a little nervous, he couldn’t lie, wondering why Rog hadn’t yet swooped in to save him. But no, no-no.

The man had become a loyal customer to him, kept coming back with his charisma and enthusiasm, poetry rehearsed and perfected to entertain JT through the gruelling hours he was working on his skin.

The fashionista within JT was thankful that the man had finally shed his wristbands, donned a black blazer and straightened out. Dirty blonde mullet having been cut, bled away into something much darker and clear cut. He now had stiff, spiked ends that flaunted his jewellery and had JT’s heart in his stomach.

“When’ll she be here?”

“Her gig just ended, within the hour.”

“Perfect, let’s head into the back. Dom, can you guys wrap it all up out here?” Nicki instructed, motioning to the clientele as they fizzled out the door.

“I’m on it.”

JT took a step back, stumbling, thoroughly caught in the trance that radiated off of the man before him. They were eye to eye, inches apart and he was breathing erratically, desperate to stop himself and to compose himself in front of—

“—Follow JT, you know the way!”

“I sure do, Nicki!” he chuckled, rolling up his sleeves.

He whirled around, now even closer to JT.

“Well, come on then. Come up and see me, Johnny, _Make Me Smile!_ ”


End file.
